


Chaperone

by CrystalRebellion



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cayak, Chaperones, Coran x Dayak, F/M, background lotura, mall date, young Allura stories, young Lotor stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 08:10:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15311199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalRebellion/pseuds/CrystalRebellion
Summary: While Lotor and Allura spend a leisure day in the wake of peace strolling through a space mall, their guardians have their own plans in mind. While Coran and Dayak tail their charges for precautionary reasons, they are surprised to find gentle comfort in each other's company.  (Coran x Dayak) (Cayak)  (Background Lotura) (Pure fluff) (One-shot)





	Chaperone

**Author's Note:**

> I bring you the wonderful crackship of Cayak, with some soft Lotura in the background. Thank you to the Lotura Discord server for encouraging and indulging me in my fluff!

“Don’t walk so fast.”

“Oh, you worry too much.  I’m more impressed that they even bothered to take the time at all!”

Coran cast a whimsical smile at the stern matron marching beside him.  He only shook his head in amusement and started whistling as he walked.

The soft rap of a crop on his shoulder cut the sound off just as it began and Dayak’s eyes slid to his dangerously.

“They’ll hear you.”

“I can assure you, Allura is _very_ distracted at the moment,” he said, nodding down the long, crowded hallway to where his charge walked leisurely at the Emperor’s side.  The Altean glanced up to him as he said something before bursting into a fit of giggles, her arm laced though his.

“But he most certainly is not.  The Blood Emperor is very astute about his surroundings.”

“Oh.  Well, he looks pretty distracted to me,” he chuckled, watching as Lotor paused in front of a bookstore window.  Allura’s palms pressed against the glass as nearly close as her nose as she eyed the volumes on display.

“Ah, he always did have a penchant for antiquated things,” she murmured as the couple entered the novelty shop to browse the strange and otherwise archaic means of preserving information.

The Galran paused and scoured the bustling heart of the spacemall.

“Looking for something?”  Coran glanced to her, noticing the focus of her attention.

“An advantageous place to observe where we will be undetected,” she murmured, eyeing the wrought-iron benches, water fountains and plethora of pedestrians warily.

The Altean stroked his moustache thoughtfully before raising his eyes.

“How about there?”

Dayak turned and followed where he was pointing.  On a second-tier balcony to the enclosed building, a walkway was nearly covered in decorative ferns and vines – directly overlooking the store the royal couple had disappearing into.

“Ideal,” she agreed.  “Will you stay here while I scout the area up there in case they leave before I’m in position?”

Coran chuckled softly and nodded as Dayak breezed past him to hunt for the stair access to the second level, leaving the guardian to return his gaze to the storefront.

A flash of silver hair flared behind the glass and he smiled, letting his back recline against a pillar, out of the immediate line of sight of the door.  While he didn’t expect that Allura would be surprised to see any of her companions flanking her subtly, he did respect that she would prefer the privacy.

_With most of the factions of the Galra Empire loyal to Lotor now, there really **is** little concern for their safety.  And yet…_

“Seneschal!”

Coran blinked and tilted his head up at the hissed, ancient title.  Dayak gestured to him from the second story.

“The stairs are over there.  Come join me from this new vantage,” she instructed before settling onto a bench nearly completely hidden behind the foliage.

Coran exhaled in amusement.  The stern woman often caught him off guard with her stoic mannerisms, but there was an elegant beauty in the outmoded formality that struck him warmly.

With a quick glance to the storefront to make sure he wouldn’t be noticed as he vacated his watch point, he took to the stairs before joining her on the second landing.  As he approached, she gathered the fabric of her garments and scooted politely to one side, nodding to the empty space beside her.

The Altean eased himself down and glanced through the flora blooming around them.

“An excellent eye, Seneschal,” she commended, nodding her approval at the near-hidden seat that framed the shop the Emperor and Princess had entered.

“How long do you think they will be in there?”  He tilted his head to the side and glanced to Dayak curiously.

“Undoubtedly a while.  The Blood Emperor is known for his curiosities in ancient things,” she replied primly, folding her hands in her lap over her crop.

Coran studied her profile for a moment longer before gazing back through the greenery.

“Allura too.  Even as a little girl, she loved learning about things she had never encountered before.  The Castleship has a small part of its archives dedicated to some old scrolls and other such tomes that were collected with millennia of research.  King Alfor’s parents had a penchant for it, as well.  Perhaps it’s an Altean thing,” he murmured, a smile curling at his lips at the memory.

Dayak glanced to him out of the corner of her eye but didn’t turn her face.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Coran broke into a laugh and leaned back on the bench.

“Once,” he started, his eyes sparkling in faraway reminiscence.  “Once, Allura was with King Alfor in his workshop.  He made the mistake of turning his back on her.  It took less than three doboshes and she had completely disassembled half his tools out of sheer curiosity.”

“He must have been angry,” Dayak commented, turning to look at the royal advisor.

The crinkle near his eyes deepened when his grin only widened.

“Not at all.  He was shocked at first – and then impressed.  How could he fault her for wanting to learn how something worked?”  Coran exhaled, his own gaze sliding to meet Dayak’s thoughtful expression.

A moment passed between them before she spoke, her eyes flitting back to the bookstore.

“I rather wish the Blood Emperor had had that sort of environment around him.  I rather think he would have thrived in it.  I gave him what I could, but his burdens were great.  The Empire at the time of his childhood was not known for its expansive thirst for knowledge.  Formal education consisted of history, propriety and decorum.  Traditions and… well.  You’ve seen him fight,” she said gently.

Coran grew quiet.

“It doesn’t sound like it was easy for him.”

“I don’t believe for a moment that it was.”

“Who trained him to fight? His style seems different than most Galra,” Coran observed.  While he’d never seen the man in combat directly, there had been recordings and he’d caught him working with Allura on the training deck once.

“He learned himself.  His father put him through The Trials – they’re a rite of passage for young Galra.  He lost.  Consistently.  He didn’t have the strength to beat his enemies.”

Coran’s brow furrowed as he continued to watch her profile, the haunted look etched behind her eyes not lost on the older Altean.

“He still doesn’t,” she said after a moment of silence.  “Lotor will not win his battles with strength.  Not against the Galra.”  She glanced to Coran and flashed him a vicious, fanged smile.  “That’s why we _improvised._ ”

“We?”  He blinked, startled by the sudden pride in her.

“I took him aside after one of his failed Trials.  I rather think he believed I intended to continue the punishment – or force him to build the muscle mass he lacked for combat.”

“What did you do?”  Coran leaned in closer, enraptured by the woman’s story.

“I taught him how to dance,” she murmured with a grin.  “He never lost again.”

“…I… I’m sorry, did you say _dance_?”  He blinked in surprise at the unexpected answer.  She nodded as she reclined against the bench back.

“He learned to use his opponent’s strength against them, rather than match it with his own.  He learned how to out-maneuver his enemies, how to stay two steps ahead.  I never expected to see how much that would translate into his politics, however,” she mused faintly.

Coran stared at her before shaking his head once, glancing away once more.

“And what of yours?”

“What of her?”

“What’s her story? Her glorious ascension into power?”

The Altean man looked back to the Galra beside him sadly.  In his silence, her eyes slid from the bookstore to meet his gaze.

“There… wasn’t one,” he admitted.  “She is… where she is out of sheer necessity.”

“Was there no ceremony or rite to mark her power?”

A chilly, somber silence settled between them as Coran glanced down to his lap.

“Many thousand years ago, Zarkon and Alfor were close friends.  I watched them interact together.  They were inseparable.  Zarkon, admittedly was a bit more stoic than Alfor, the latter never shy with a prank or two.  But they _worked_.  Their differences complimented each other.  Where Alfor would charge in, Zarkon would calculate and wait.  …They were incredible.”

“And then?”

Dayak’s strangely gentle tone drew Coran from his memories.

“I can’t say with certainty what happened in the rift – I only know that the people who returned from it were not the same.  Everything changed.  …Alfor… He knew what was coming. He… told me as much.  He never told Allura.  He wanted her to retain her hope.  He didn’t want to shatter her curiosity and her thirst for knowledge by cloaking it all in shadows.  He sent the lions away, and… he sent Allura and I away,” he explained softly.

“…Ten thousand years, here we are.  She is… where she is because there is no other that can do it.  I am here to guide her on that path as best I can.”

Another moment of quiet passed, and Coran continued the heavy story.

“Alfor knew.    He knew what Zarkon was, and what was coming for Altea.  He also knew Allura would not leave his side when the moment came.  She would not be persuaded to flee, to preserve what was left of the fracturing lineage.  So he sent her away. And now… here we are,” he finished, a dark chuckle on his lips, chancing a glance to the Galra next to him.

Dayak eyed him oddly, her expression stoney and far away.

“They’re not so different, then, are they?”

“I mean, I’d say her childhood was far easier than his,” he hedged carefully.  “From the sounds of it.”

“But awakening after ten thousand years…?”

Coran shrugged and Dayak continued.

“That must have been a shock on you as well.”

“Well, now, these old bones have seen their fair share.  What’s a little more, eh?”  He flashed her a weak smile, smoothing over the pain lingering just beneath the surface.  “Allura’ strong – and she’s fierce,” he added comfortably.

“They will make fine babies.”

The shocked look on Coran’s face was all the silence Dayak needed to chuckle.

“Don’t be so prudish, Seneschal,” she chided.  “Do you not expect heirs from this… circumstance?”

“I…” He blinked, overwhelmed by the possibility no one on the nearly non-existent Altean side had dared imagine.  “I… suppose?” He offered weakly.

Dayak cackled triumphantly in response, clapping her hands over her crop gleefully.

Coran’s blank expression slowly swiveled from the matron back to the storefront.  His blood felt cold yet his heart felt heated.  As terrifying as the notion was, something warm fluttered at the idea.

_Hope._

He released a shaky, bubbly exhale as the sensation took root, unsure how to process the idea of grandheirs.

“That’s the spirit, Seneschal,” she praised, her hand coming down in affirmation on his shoulder when tears budded in the corner of his eyes.

 _Alfor’s legacy will endure,_ he thought with violent nostalgia.  _After everything we’ve been through… we’ll make it out in the end._

“We must plot to urge them along, however.  Courtship was not an art I had time to train the Blood Emperor in,” she mused, nearly causing Coran to choke.

“Perhaps… we can leave those details… up to them... in their own time,” he hedged gently, still flustered by the sudden implication.

Dayak tossed him a curious look before sighing.

“I suppose Alteans are a bit more… _private_ about such matters.  Right, then,” she acquiesced.

Coran leaned back against the bench seat, his mind still reeling from the possibility of small children.  Allura was practically his daughter, and while the mechanics of such a procurement were something he did _not_ intend to dwell on, the prospect of small ones running about once more left a lightness in his soul he hadn’t felt in centuries.

“It’s good to be back within the full ranks of the Empire,” Dayak commented as silence stretched between them, starling Coran from his thoughts.  “I missed some of the luxuries that come with it, perhaps I took them for granted.”

“You were gone?”  Coran’s eyes glanced over to her in surprise.

The matron nodded in response.

“Shortly after Lotor’s exile,” she explained.  “There was little need for a governess to remain around Central Command without a pupil.  Moreover, his father and I did not… see eye to eye on everything,” she added.

“So you left?”

“I… yes,” Dayak replied delicately.  “I left before I was… extracted.  The Inner Court would not have found my presence… _palatable_.”

“I can’t imagine anyone objecting to your presence,” Coran replied with a chuckle.  He stilled when her eyes flashed to him, a frown marring her features as her lips turned down further than usual.  The governess stared at him for a moment before speaking.

“Why would you say that?”

“I find your company charming.  And what stories you have to tell!” The Altean laughed genuinely, his eyes twinkling at the prospect.  “Why do you ask?”

“I can’t say anyone has ever said that before,” she mused, her frown softening as her eyes glanced back to the shop front.

“Ah, well.  What do kids know these days, anyway?”  His laughter faded into a chuckle before he resumed the previous discussion.  “So what did you do? Travel? Sight-seeing?  Wrestle a Weeblum?”

Her quiet expression returned once more to her companion and she hesitated before answering.

“I went looking for the Heir Apparent,” she nodded in the direction of the shop.

“Oh,” he murmured, his expression quieting.

“He was… very good at evading his father.  Evading _everyone_.  I never found him, no matter how hard I tried.  I can only imagine what he was up to on his own for so long.  When I heard he had returned after claiming the throne at the Kral Zera… Well.  I couldn’t be prouder of him.”

She flashed a grin at him triumphantly, clapping her hands together.

“My only regret was that I did not get to see his Ascension myself.  I’m sure it was magnificent!”

“It was… definitely _something_ ,” Coran murmured with fatigue, remembering the utter chaos of the day.

“Excellent!”  Her eyes lit up with feral delight and she flashed a fanged smile back to the bookshop doorway, eagerly awaiting her charge’s return.

“Is it difficult to raise a child in such a… an aggressive society?”

Her head snapped to look back at him in surprise.

“You find our methods to be aggressive?”

“Unorthodox, at least, by Altean standards,” he clarified quickly.

“It wasn’t always that way,” Dayak replied.  “Before Zarkon’s first fall, the Galra Empire wasn’t all that different.  But, that was a very long time ago,” she murmured.

“You were there.”

Her eyes slid to his and she pressed her lips together in a thin line.

“I’ve been there for _many_ things,” she said.

“I cannot imagine the stories you could share,” he reiterated, his eyes glittering at the font of knowledge before him.

“You have but to ask,” she replied, her own eyes vibrant with delight that someone would actually want to hear her recounts and archives.  “Perhaps we could - ”

Coran leaned forward as the door to the shop swung open.  Dayak’s words died on her lips as her attention riveted on her charge as Lotor stepped through.  He paused, his hand still on the door as his attention looked behind him.

Allura trailed behind him, her nose pressed into the open pages of a leather-bound tome.  Her hand reached absently for the door, and a smirk graced the Emperor’s face as her fingertips brushed open air.  Confused, the Altean glanced up.  As her eyes met his and she realized he was holding the door for her, her cheeks darkened slightly.

Demurely, she closed the book and pressed it to her chest, a winsome smile breaking out over her lips as she stepped through the threshold.

Coran sighed as an equally genuine smile flashed across Lotor’s face in response.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look quite so happy,” he said affectionately.  As Lotor offered the crook of his arm to her, Allura quickly laced her own through it, her body stepping informally close to him.  Their hips brushed against each other as they walked, the relic clutched to her chest by her free hand still.  “Or relaxed.”

“I could say the same for him,” Dayak agreed, a knowing grin on her face.

“Shall we continue our observation?”  Coran rose from his seat and in a manner not dissimilar to Lotor’s, offered the woman his elbow.

Her eyes flashed from the gesture to the kindly man and back again before gracefully rising to her feet and accepting the offering, a guarded look across her face.

Side by side, they trailed the young heirs from the second story landing, continuing to trade stories of the past while the future before them wrote itself.


End file.
